Moments of Value
by The Bonnie Pirate Lass
Summary: Rating May Go Up. Reposted due to ff.net problems. SUB-STORY TO NIGHT OF THE BUTTERFLY! Why did Elizabeth leave Will for the Commodore? Can you really be happy once you've known love and lost it?
1. Forsaken Once, Never Again

I was having a bit of writer's block as I was writing chapter four of "Night of the Butterfly", and since I've recently  
broken up with my boyfriend, and have been listening to all sorts of depressed music and such over the past few days,  
I decided that taking a break from the continual plotline of NotB and writing a short song-fic (what I do best, I'd like  
to think) would help to cure my writers block. We'll see. This is to a song from around 1997, 1998, I believe, and it's  
by an Irish group called "The Wilde Oscars". The song is called Moments of Value, and this song-fic goes along with the  
NotB plot (How Eilzabeth ended up marrying the Commodore, rather than Will, who has been much happier since I brought him  
to live in my basement. ^_^). Enjoy!  
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~*.:.*~ What do I give you....  
moments of value...  
nothing to offer... yet...  
you and I, we go  
together well... ~*.:.*~  
  
Nursing a canteen of rum, sitting in the darkness and the quiet of the small, cramped crew's quaters, Will stared  
at the floor, not moving, hardly breathing. Hardly caring. At all.  
  
Elizabeth was gone. No doubt was she happier, no doubt was she more well taken care of. The Commodore cared  
deeply for her. He always had. Something Will had picked up in tid-bits of overhead conversation as he delivered various  
parcels to the Governor's Mansion over the years. He'd always been a blacksmith's apprentice, Commodore had always been  
a man of the law, loyal to the crown, and Elizabeth had always been Elizabeth. She was magnetic, all men around her melted.  
It had been a joke between the two of them when they had a moment alone, how humorus it had been watching grown men  
try and keep their composure around her, most times having to excuse themselves. Will and Elizabeth would laugh for hours   
on end about everything... because everything was funny to them when they had been together.  
  
He hoped she would have laughter in her life now that she had married James Norrington. Inwardly, he doubted she'd  
laugh in his presence ever, at least a sincere laugh, at any rate.  
  
~*.:.*~ And after the break-up...  
the storm in a coffe cup...  
thing are much better, and...  
I will never let you down  
again ~*.:.*~  
  
They had been through with planning the wedding for at least a month before she had broken the news to him. They  
were set to wed in a fortnight, and Elizabeth had grabbed his hand, trying to quiet her giggles and his laughter as she   
pulled him outside, ducking behind the bushes as people bustled in and out of the house. She put a hand over his mouth,  
biting her bottom lip, and he pulled her hand away and kissed her quickly, pulling back almost immediately. She looked  
shocked at first, then sad, and it confused him initially, it had not been the first time they had stolen kisses in   
private, and he had no idea why it offended her so. Until he heard her speak.  
  
"William, we've got to talk..." she looked at him from where her gaze had rested on a nearby flowerbed, her coffee  
colored eyes now full of tears, and he was shocked into silence. "Elizabeth, have I done something? Have I hurt you?" He  
tried to pull her close, made an attempt - no matter how futile - to comfort her, but she stood from where she had knelt,  
heading around to the back of the huge home. He rose as well, chasing after her, her pace considerably fast for all the  
weight of the clothes she had been wearing. "Elizabeth, wait!" he exclaimed, catching hold of her wrist, and she spun  
around to stare him in the face, huge tears of misery pouring down her cheeks. "Will, please let me go..." she whispered,  
trying to pull her wrist from his grasp, and he released her immediately, not realizing how tightly he had been holding  
her. "Elizabeth, I'm so sorry, can you ever forgive me? I never meant to hurt you..." He murmured softly against her hand,  
raising her wrist to his lips, kissing it softly. She yanked her hand from his grasp and turned her back to him. "The   
question is not can I forgive you, Will... the question is will you ever forgive me...?"  
  
He looked at her, puzzled, entranced by the way her hair hung down her neck and fell over her shoulder, and he  
walked around her, taking her shoulders into his hand, and staring deep into the eyes of the girl, the woman he loved   
so much. "Elizabeth, please... tell me what is going on..." He pleaded with her, and she burst into a fresh round of tears,   
and sank into his arms, hugging herself as she was hugged by him, and cried into his shirt. He could only try to quiet her   
sobs - he knew neither the problem, nor its solution, and could only hold her close as she wept.  
  
"I can't marry you, William..." she stated, surprisingly matter-of-factly for just a moment ago being controlled  
by her emotions. She raised her head and backed out of his arms, trying not to focus too much on him, trying to look away  
as much as she could as she held in the rest of her tears.  
  
~*.:.*~ And if I break,  
don't get me wrong...  
make no mistake, it's just a song,  
and how I'd like to be,  
all is done, and I'm just me... ~*.:.*~  
  
"Lizzie, what on earth are you talking about, of course you can marry me... I'd have it no oth-" "No, Will. I   
cannot marry you." She spat out bitterly, looking out over the sprawling lawns as she dabbed at her eyes carefully. He  
watched her incredulously, his mouth half-open in an oncoming gasp, his almost black eyes swimming with bewilderment.  
"I've been thinking about this for quite some time, I... I simply can't, Will... everyone in Port Royal knows about the  
Commodore's proposal... And since my father found out I had chosen you over James, I... he simply hasn't been the same to  
me... it's as if he were disappointed..." She inhaled shakily, and looked down to her hands.  
  
"Elizabeth, we've discussed that, you said it didn't matter what he thought..." "Well, it matters now, William!"   
She snapped, looking up at him with a combination of misery and anger flashing in her once kind eyes, and he took a step  
back in disbelief, shaking his head. "No... no, no, no... Elizabeth, please, don't do this to me... I love you... I've  
always loved you, I-"  
  
"Will... just stop... don't make this harder on us..." she spoke quietly, her voice shaking with impending sobs,  
and he could only let his own tears fall freely. "Please... just go home...." She turned her head upwards to his, imploring  
him with her eyes to not ask questions, and to leave her. He understood her reasons on the inside, she never had to say them  
out loud. He leaned forward, and kissed away the last tear from her cheek. "Good day, Miss Swann..." he whispered, his voice  
cracking as he pulled away quickly, his cloak flapping in the wind as he walked around the house and towards town.   
  
As soon as he was out of sight, Elizabeth sank to the ground, burying her face in her hands, and she wept.  
  
~*.:.*~ I let myself drown...  
by pulling our dreams down...  
still you stood by me...  
You were so much stronger than I was... ~*.:.*~  
  
Afterwards, Will didn't remember how he spent the two weeks between her decision to leave him and her and the  
Commodore's wedding. Many said he spent every night in The Widow's Despair, feeling not too much unlike a widower himself,  
and no one asked him questions as to why he would return at daybreak to the blacksmith's shop. The only day he could  
be find at neither was the day he would have been marying Lizzie, rather than Norrington. As he dressed for the occasion,  
pulling on the finest garments he could muster, he bitterly thought to himself, 'It's as though I never existed in these  
wedding plans...'  
  
The small roads of Port Royal had never been so busy, carriages going to and fro, all eventually to end their journey  
at or near the Governor's Mansion, and he walked briskly, his head held high, for once his eyes not glazed over from rum.  
The whole neighborhood smelled of flowers, for it was spring, and hundreds of the most beautiful tropical flowers had been  
planted around the house, but as he laid eyes on her, dressed in the cleanest shade of white he'd ever seen, he knew not  
one flower in the whole of the world compared with Elizabeth's beauty, and he could have wept at the sight of her.  
  
He tortured himself, standing at the back of the crowd the entire time, never saying a word. Not even when offered  
his chance to speak his peace, he wouldn't ruin her day. As much as he wanted to hate her, as much as a part of him did hate  
her, he couldn't do it.   
  
Elizabeth scanned the crowd, only half-listening to her vows, praying that Will was there. She had been a miserable  
lump the entire time since she had broken it off with him, and Commodore knew not how to handle this situation. Jokingly, he  
had told Gilette the evening prior, "I've seen the end of some of the most notorious pirates at my hands, and I cannot  
cheer my fiance."  
  
Squinting to see the crowd through the blaring sun, she thought she spotted the gray hat he had loved so much - he  
would joke about how he cared for nothing in the world but her, and his hat, his swords and the sea, and she had always  
laughed at the rhythmic way he said it - moving through the crowd, but as soon as quickly as she had tried to focus on it,   
it was gone, and she was alone again, even in the midst of the hundreds of people buzzing in her presence.  
  
~*.:.*~ And if I break,  
don't get me wrong...  
make no mistake, it's just a song,  
and how I'd like to be,  
all is done, and I'm just me... ~*.:.*~  
  
"I do..."  
  
The words she uttered, although he could barely hear them from where he stood, pierced his heart, and as soon as   
they escaped from her lips, he literally felt pain in his chest. Practically buckling over, he had to leave, before he  
ruined her happy moment, because one more second of standing before her, unable to touch her, to kiss her, it was killing   
him from the inside. Knowing he would never have her again was killing him.  
  
He stumbled through the crowd, holding his stomach as if he were going to be sick, and dashed home as quickly as  
he could. His mother had told him once before she died that Turner men never cried. William assumed he was the bastard child   
of a traveling messenger, for the tears poured freely as he stared at the wall of the blacksmith's shop, numb, like a hand   
held in ice water too long.  
  
After the sun fell from it's dutiful spot in the sky, he returned to the pub, to drink away his troubles. The last  
thing he wanted to think about was where Elizabeth was at the moment, and with whom, and doing what, and although he had   
never liked rum, he began to understand the deep appreciation Jack had for it. A mind-deadening drink, and he had planned  
on drinking his fair share of it that evening - until Jack Sparrow himself strolled into the pub, looking like a   
half-suffocated fish happy to be back in his pond. It took hardly any time for Jack to spot Will, for him to notice   
something was wrong, but for once Jack decided not to be a nosy bugger, and he sat down at Will's small table in the   
darkest reccesses of the pub and waited for Will to break the silence. Break the silence he did, with a heartwrenching sob,  
and the loudest crack in the pub as his fist hit the table.  
  
"Oh, I'd love to hate her right now..." he whispered, choking back a sob as he tried to compose himself. "Maybe I   
wos wrong when I told you tha' you need a girl, lad..." Will shot Jack a look of heartbroken disgust, causing Jack to  
shrink back in his chair. "My deepest apologies, mate, we'll get you good and drunk, and then we'll talk, eh?" Will didn't  
look up from the spot he had fixated his eyes upon. "Well, I'll be takin' that as a yes."  
  
After a long night of shoving away the ever-persistant strumpets that decided to bother them, on that of all nights,  
and many, many mugs of the finest rum that they could buy with the money they had, Will did indeed spill his story, every  
detail as he made Jack a bed of straw in the corner of the smithy. The two of them stumbled about, both drunk and feeling  
sorry for themselves.  
  
"Mate, wot say you to joinin' me on the Pearl again...? Could use your company, you know, ever since Cotton kicked  
tha' ole bucket, we've been short a hand... You should get away from this town anyway... Seeing her every day around town  
won't ever do you any good..." Jack stared at Will, silent, his black-as-night eyes piercing the darkness as he watched  
Will try to situate himself in the moonlight.  
  
"Aye... perhaps I will... couldn't hurt as much as staying here..." he mumbled to himself, turning over in his bed  
of straw.  
  
By dawn, the two men had left Port Royal, and were sailing to only God knows where, leaving all to wonder about the  
disappearance of the too-somber man who had vommited in the flowerbed at Commodore and Mrs. Norrington's wedding,  
  
~*.:.*~ And when my smile is not my eyes,  
then I'm a child who tries to hide  
behind his best defense,  
my last disguise, my oldest friend... ~*.:.*~  
  
The rest was history amongst them... it had been just over a year since he had left Port Royal for good, and as he   
sat in his dark cabin, alone, he thought about the news he had recieved before they had left that god-forsaken port, the one  
he always came back to, that morning.  
  
Elizabeth, as happy as she could ever be, was expecting her first child with her husband, who was as doting and  
adoring as he had been to her since the moment she had agreed to marry the aforementioned Commodore.  
  
Wiping his face roughly with the back of sleeve, staring into the empty canteen he held in his hand, he wondered   
what it was he couldn't give her, that made her change her mind. His heart was dead to the core, and as he thought about   
it, he figured, like the Black Pearl to Jack, that his rum would never forsake him.  
  
~*.:.*~ What do I give you...?  
Moments of value...  
nothing to offer...  
yet... ~*.:.*~  
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Hehe... I'm kind of wondering if this turned out the way I wanted it too... *thinks about it* YUP! And all of you Will/Orly  
fangirls, don't worry. He'll be ok... I'm here to comfort him. ^_^ In all honesty, the more I watch the move, the less I   
hate the fact that he and Elizabeth ended up together. She still really annoys me... but yeah. LoL. Anyyyywaay. R/R Please!  
  
This is dedicated to my ex-boyfriend... without whom, I wouldn't have been inwardly depressed enough to write this story.   
Now that I've written it, I feel awesome! WOO! It's like a release of pent-up anger. And people wonder why I like fan  
fiction so much. Simple. I take a perfect world, shake it up a bit, kill a few people, break a few hearts, mend said broken  
hearts, and then break them all over again, driving all aforementioned characters to the furthest brink of depression and  
suicide before finally leaving them alone, and they will ALWAYS fear the wrath of Heavily, because I am evil. Muahahahaha.  
Its fun making people, even fictional ones, have life-long issues that are psychiatrist worthy. So yes. Thank you Josh.   
*hats off*  
  
Review, people! 


	2. The Blessings Of The Moon

Oh, glory. I've decided to do a second chapter to this, and I'm blaming it all on the fabulo-mastic author "Nevis" who's FANTASTIC. Fan-tas-tic. She rules. So so so so so so much. Well, I should say they. Cuz Nevis may be a guy. But I doubt it. And if they are, then they're one of the greatest male authors I've ever had the privelage to experience their works. If they're a chick, same thing, but guys aren't really englishly talented, if you know what I mean.  
  
So anyways. I'm thinking about a song to use for this chapter. I've got on in mind, "Do This Anymore" by Nickelback, but that means it'd have to be another one from Will's point of view, and I was sort of hoping to do this chapter focusing on Elizabeth. We'll see. Must go research more lyrics.  
  
*many hours later*  
  
I FOUND IT! The song for this chapter, which I've yet to name, and probably won't until I think of something witty and fitting, is "If You Can't Leave It Be, Might As Well Make It Bleed" by Dashboard Confessional. A truly rockin' band.  
  
SO! What have we learned? That this chapter is dedicated to Nevis, my inspiration for the day, and that I'm crazy. ENJOY!!!!!  
  
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~*.:.*~ What you've found sure upsets you  
Never saw it coming did you?  
Its easy to be suprised with both your eyes sewn closed  
Handeld with great percision, another thoughtless execution  
You're the subject of this exhibition  
A willing cadaver, a willing cadaver.  
Scalpel, sutured.   
Made whole again... ~*:*~  
  
The tears poured as she watched him walk away from her, leaving her alone to weep amongst the colors of spring as flowers around her found new life. They bloomed. She did not. She wanted to leave herself on the ground, to weep forever, to cry, rot, become nothing, and do so until the end of her days. Her father wouldn't allow it. Unbeknownst to him, she saw him for the fat, disgusting, pompus git that he really was. And she hated him for it.  
  
'To blazes with propriety...' she moaned bitterly inside her head, letting the tears fall as though they were small children, running down her cheeks as those same small children would chase after sweets. Wiping them away would be to stop them, and if she couldn't have freedom, the freedom to choose, then her tears, as an extension of herself, should.  
  
She was allowed to mope that evening, much to her surprise. But even surprise was bittersweet, and she was silent, sullen. Withdrawn.  
  
William hated her, of this, she was absolutely sure. Maybe not now, maybe not for years and years, but there would be a time when he hated her for what she'd done, and knowing that made her hate herself.   
  
~*:*~ These cuts are leaving creases  
Trace the scars, fit the peices  
Tell your story, you don't need to say a word.  
Call off the calvary, can't save a wretch like me.  
Clean this with kerosene.   
If you can't leave it be might as well make it bleed.  
Scalpel, sutured.  
Made whole again... ~*:*~  
  
She hated herself as she dragged the tiny kitchen knife across the innocent wrist that had never wronged her. Only given her life. In a desperate attempt to make it all go away, she pressed, softly at first, and then not caring, faster, a little deeper. The crimson agony poured from the newly opened wound, and she had to bite her bottom lip to keep from crying out. Crying would signify weakness.  
  
She was tired of being weak.  
  
Over and over again, the same scene played in her head: the two of them, laughing, kissing softly on the beach, beneath the brightly beaming moon. It beamed as though it were smiling upon them, giving them her most sincere blessing, to love, and to be loved by one another. Unequivocated happiness, she bestowed upon them, the never faltering moon.  
  
And now all she could think about was him, the things she had said to him, the pain he must have felt as she said them. She deserved this, she deserved every moment of it. Every. last. moment.  
  
She chanted that to herself in her head, a mantra, as she let her wrist continue to pour itself into her bath. She fainted just as the maid opened the door, not hearing Estrellas scream as she blacked out into the ever-silent oblivion which she so greatly welcomed.  
  
~*:*~ Your wires are frayed, can't fire right  
You look better when out of sight  
You were not made to stand and fight  
There's something better wrong with you ~*:*~  
  
She woke up the next afternoon, her father sitting at her bedside, white as a ghost, his head buried in his hands. As he heard her stir slightly, his head jolted upwards, bloodshot eyes looking her over as though she had risen from the dead.  
  
She felt as though she had risen from the dead. Thick bandages covered her wrists, and she was so weak, she could hardly lift her head. The many terrible things the Governor was, and as cruel as he had been in practically forcing Elizabeth to dispose of Will, he knew his daughter. Actually lifting a finger to do an ounce of work, he helped her to sit up, piling pillows behind her so she wouldn't have to hold herself up.  
  
She could hardly speak, she was ashamed, she was heartbroken. She was still breathing. Another flaw in her plan. Nothing seemed to want to go her way, as trivial and childish a thought it was, it did cross her mind.  
  
~*.:.*~ Your pulse is anemic, you're tired of the fire  
You're bruising too easy and falling behind  
And no one is waiting for you.  
And no one is waiting for you.  
And no one is waiting for you... ~*.:.*~  
  
"Oh, Elizabeth... I've been so worried... I've... oh, the good Lord above..." he murmured, more to himself than to her, as he pressed his lips to her forehead. "Why did you do it? Why?" He wanted to scream at her, he wanted to shake her by the shoulders, force her to understand that what he said was best for her, she'd appreciate him in the long run. He couldn't bring himself to do it. The hurt in her eyes as she raised them to her wrists to his own eyes was hurting him more than she could ever know.  
  
"I... I'm sorry..." she whispered, trying to say all the right things, do all the right things. A bit late for it, she knew, but it looked like her grand escape was forced to come to a close, and she'd be damned to the depths if she would do it again. Not now... now that they knew.  
  
"This is about that boy, isn't it..." he said to her, the anger in him finally showing itself, and he almost shook with fear. He didn't recognize this angry part of him, for he had rarely shown it to anyone, and never to Elizabeth.   
  
She hardly had the strength to nod, swallowing hard, only bringing herself more pain as she found her throat parched. "I knew it... I knew it all along... Elizabeth, please... please, trust me. I know... I've not been the greatest father... But all along, I've only had the best interests in your well being..."  
  
"Oh yes, my well-being..." she muttered to herself, closing her eyes before the tears had a chance to escape. "Excuse me?" he whispered to her, hardly believing her ears. Since she'd been at sea, she truly had changed, and the insubordination was to end. Immediately.  
  
"Oh, you heard me! You heard me!" She tried to scream at him, wanted to pound her fists into the bed, but her arms would not move, her vocal chords would not sound above the loudest whisper. He could only stare at her wide-eyed. "Now you listen to me, young lady, and you listen with the most attentive ears there ever were." He growled. He hardly cared about the tears that formed in her eyes, he only cared that she listened, that she shed any ideas of trying to escape life again.  
  
She stared down at the bedspread. "Alright, you've got my attention, Father..." she said, hushed tones owning every sentace she spoke aloud. "You will marry the Commodore, the day you were set to marry that lowly blacksmith, and you will do it with the falsest smile on your face. Fancy yourself a woman of the theater and fake it, for all I care, but you will marry him. You will not shame the good, upstanding reputation I have provided for this family!" He shouted, his face redder than a handful of beets, and he stormed from the room, leaving his only daughter to wallow in her own sadness and self-pity.  
  
~*.:.*~ Call off your quarantine, can't save the rest from me  
Clean this with kerosene.   
If you can't leave it be might as well make it bleed.  
Scapel, Sutured.  
Made whole again... ~*.:.*~  
  
She watched him walk away again, knowing there were tears in his eyes, and she did her best to fight her own. James, at least, was a bit understanding, and knew how fragile she was now. He could only smile, as miserable as she was on the inside, because he knew the woman he loved did not love him in return.  
  
He did not have the blessing of the moon.  
  
As time passed, the raw ache for Will dulled in Elizabeths heart, and was replaced with an all-around sadness she couldn't put into words. Her hand on her swollen stomach, she looked at her cousin Novialeigh, who inquired as to who her mysterious suitor was all that time ago. "I miss him sometimes..." She said as she inhaled shakily, as though she were going to cry, and looked away before Novialeigh could see her tears, which were as real as she was.  
  
~*.:.*~Your wires are frayed, can't fire right  
You look better when out of sight  
You were not made to stand and fight  
There's something better wrong with you... ~*.:.*~  
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WOW. I think that was THE saddest thing I've ever written. I feel like I could cry... NOT! I hate Elizabeth. Burn. Be lost to Davy Jones' Locker. Now, If I had ended this story the way I wanted to, it would give away secrets to Night of the Butterfly, which, remember, this is just a sub-story for. :-)  
  
PLEASE REVIEW! I love reviews. %_^  
  
And again, thank you Nevis, for inspiring me to sit down and write something. You so rule. 


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